University Boat Race 2013: no Hawkeye on the river, you have to be proactive, says umpire Sir Matthew Pinsent

It is hard to miss Matthew Pinsent as he eases his giant frame out of his car
parked on the Thames towpath at Putney. Big enough to block out much of the
natural light, his full beam smile is unmistakable.

Knighted for his magnificent contribution to Britain’s Olympic efforts over the years, the multiple gold medallist is as publicly recognisable a figure as his sport has ever produced. Not that it has produced many. Indeed, such is his renown he will be easily the most celebrated participant in Sunday afternoon’s University Boat Race. Which is an unusual thing for the race umpire.

“It’s true, the best official is the one you never see,” he says as he settles in to the media centre. “What I really hope happens is nobody notices me. It would be nice if at the end of the race maybe one of my colleagues on the umpiring panel says 'well done’, and then I can slip to the bar for a stiff drink and that will be the end of it. I umpired all four of the races at Eton Dorney last Sunday and didn’t have to do a thing. Nobody even knew I was there.”

After supervising the women’s and lightweight races, Pinsent is taking charge of the main event for the first time and what he does not want is to become central to the drama. But that is precisely what happened to his immediate predecessor, John Garrett, last year.

“He had a swimmer, an oar break and a guy collapsing on the finish line, three eventualities which on their own would have constituted a test,” he says. “I’m rather hoping I get none of them.”

Pinsent saw all of it at close quarters. He was Garrett’s assistant, standing at his side throughout. From his elevated position on the officials’ launch he was the first to spot, about 500 metres from the end, that the race was about to have a most unforeseen interruption.

“John said to me in the morning before the race: 'I want you to look up the river to see if there’s anything in the water’,” he recalls. “So I was doing what he asked me and I saw what I thought was a balloon on the water. Then I thought, hang on this balloon is moving in the opposite direction to the wind. Then I saw an arm come up.”

It was the lone protester Trenton Oldfield, the wet-suited spoil sport about to foul up 12 months of unstinting preparation by the two teams.

“I warned John there was a swimmer ahead and the initial attempt was to get past him. But then we realised he was right in line to be hit by a blade. Then it was a battle to get the crews to stop. These guys are in race mode, they’re thinking I’m not going to stop until the other lot do. It was at the last second that they stopped and thank God they did.”

As Pinsent remarked after the race, there was something rather endearing about the fact Oldfield was plucked from mortal danger by the people whose efforts he was trying to compromise. Not that he recalls the interloper fondly.

“When he got hoiked out he was plonked soaking wet right on top of my kit bag, which was great,” he says. “One of the guys on the back of the launch was saying: 'You know what you’ve done?’ He was shivering but he managed to say: 'Yeah, I know.’ As soon as he said that, I didn’t particularly want to start interacting with him socially.”

One consequence of Oldfield’s interruption has been a thorough bit of introspection by the umpire panel, a post-mortem assessing whether the reaction was appropriate. “I’m convinced John did everything right last year,” says Pinsent. “This year we’ve been working through lots of different scenarios about what we’ll do if such and such happens.

"We looked carefully at the rules and they are beautifully crafted to cover most eventualities. But were the worst to happen and we had some sort of delay or interruption, the weather this year will have to be a consideration. The rowers got really cold last year. I think if we had a stoppage in these conditions they could go hypothermic so quickly. So we might say, let’s come back tomorrow.”

Although Pinsent says he wants a “really boring race, no controversy, no issues” he recognises that it is the unpredictability of the course that marks the Boat Race out.

“I do appreciate that incident is brilliant for the race,” he says. “If nothing else, it makes it more captivating and challenging for the guys who do it.”

And should something happen, he is aware he will be obliged to trust his own instincts.

“In my rowing career quite a few times I thought the umpire got it wrong,” he admits. “But it’s a judgment call. There’s no Hawkeye on the river. What I do know is the crews need someone confident and definitive. I know you don’t want it to be about you, but it’s very difficult to be a shrinking violet. You’ve got to be proactive.”

If Pinsent was not already the most recognisable face on the water, his noisy contribution – booming out instructions via his megaphone – will ensure we notice he is out there this afternoon. That and his attire.

“I’m encouraged to wear my university colours. You might not see it because I’ll be wearing a windproof on top, but I will be wearing my Oxford blazer. It’s bonkers. A Premier League referee would be in trouble for wearing a team shirt in jest. Imagine if Howard Webb posted a picture on Facebook of him in a Spurs top, it would be cataclysmic. In the Boat Race, you wear your blazer, and if you really want to go for it, you pop on your cap. Weird.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the idiosyncrasy involved in an umpire wearing the colours of one of the participants. “But you know what: it’s part of what makes it such a fine, quirky event,” he says. “There really is nothing like it.”